


Then, Again

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Charles is Sixteen, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, M/M, Step-Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:33:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: Cain comes back for his Dad's funeral. Charles seems to want things from him that he doesn't understand.





	Then, Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gerec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Once, Before](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350123) by [Gerec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Gerec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec) in the [xmen_remix_madness2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2017) collection. 



Cain finds it weird, being back for the funeral.

He hasn’t seen his Dad for years and that’s because Dad didn’t actually like him. Dad liked _Charles_ ; pretty clever fucking Charles and Cain was just second best, even though he was Dad’s _real_ son. Hell, he was second best before even that, Dad never really liked him because Cain’s Cain and not a pretty super genius or whatever. Yeah, Dad didn’t like him and that’s just fine cause Cain never really liked him either.

But Charles phoned him and sounded so fucking _desperate_ for Cain to be there that it was too hard to say no. And when he got there and realised that the funeral was just him and Charles, well ... that kind of makes it worse but he’s also kind of glad because Dad should have someone and Charles ... well, he should probably have someone too.

He doesn’t bother to pretend to be sad. It doesn’t matter anyway, Charles is sad enough for both of them. He cries; quiet little gulpy tears and stands close to Cain and shakes. When Cain can’t stand it any longer, he pats Charles’s shoulder because anything is better than the whimpering. Charles looks at him with big eyes and blinks and it seems to help, although Cain still doesn’t really get it at all.

Charles has made him promise to come back to the mansion after. It looks pretty much the same, big and unfriendly and fucking rich. Not that Cain got to enjoy it much before Dad shunted him off to military school because hey, Cain’s the fucking loser son that nobody really cared about. Not that Cain fucking cares. He didn’t exactly like military school but at least everybody there knows that he’s strong and capable and can take care of himself. He doesn’t need anybody and that’s a good thing.

Charles keeps telling him that he’s always got a home here but he _never_ had a home here and in the end, he tells Charles so, flatly, bluntly. Charles looks at him and his mouth quivers and then he looks at the floor.

“You’re still _family_ ,” he says. “You’ve always been family, Cain.”

“Bullshit, kid. I wasn’t even _his_ family so why would I be yours?”

“You _were_ his family! Of course you were! He loved you!”

“Oh yeah? Tell you that, did he?”

“Of course,” Charles says but he sounds a little confused now. Cain guesses he never really came up in conversation. He wonders what Dad and Charles even talked about while they were living in his place all alone, together ...

The thought troubles him. He shoves it away. 

“You’re _my_ family,” Charles says quietly. “Your only family.”

That makes Cain feel even fucking weirder because in a way, it kinda _is_ true, that without Dad, he’s got no family at all and maybe a family that didn’t care was better than none at all. He looks away, tries not to think about that. 

“I’m your only family,” Charles repeats and he puts his hands on Cain’s, stares at him with uncomfortably intense eyes. “And you have a home here for always.”

“Great,” Cain says, getting up. “Then you won’t care if I go find the beer.”

Charles doesn’t stop him and so Cain goes and drinks. He knows his Dad’s taste, there’s plenty and it makes everything a little less close somehow.

He wishes that he wasn’t here. He wishes that it was all less weird. He wishes it was less fucked up.

He wishes he could remember why he’s so sure that it is fucked up.

But then, maybe it’s better not to know.

He stops drinking in the end because it’s not helping and he goes up to bed. He’s getting changed when Charles comes in.

“Cain?”

His voice is all small and shy and little-boy like. It’s a bit weird.

“What do you want?” Cain says, not meanly because he feels bad for Charles still, even though it’s not fair that his own father liked Charles better. At least it means Cain doesn’t care now. At least it means he doesn’t hurt now.

“Come on. You don’t need to sleep in here.”

Charles sounds weird and he takes Cain’s hand and that’s weird too. Cain kinda wants to pull away but he doesn’t and he’s not quite sure why. He lets Charles lead him down the dark corridor into another bedroom, the big bedroom that he’s pretty sure was his Dad’s.

“I don’t want to sleep in here. I’m fine in the other room.”

“We’re not sleeping,” Charles whispers and then he leans up and kisses Cain on the lips.

It’s weird. It’s really weird. Cain doesn’t think that he likes it. He doesn’t kiss guys. But Charles is all warm and sort of limp in his arms, like he’s just offering himself up and that’s not actually unpleasant and Charles’s mouth is warm and he’s still kissing and ...

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, trying to sound rough, only it doesn’t come out right, it’s all husky and weird, like he’s enjoying it and Charles makes this little sound and kisses him again, pushing his tongue into his mouth and pushing him back towards the bed. They fall onto it in a tumble of limbs and Cain knows he must be squashing Charles but Charles doesn’t seem to care. He wraps himself all about Cain like Cain is some sort of blanket, hands wandering all over and it’s so fucking _weird_ but he can’t stop himself from kind of liking it. It’s like there’s a voice in his head, urging him on, saying that Charles likes this, wants to be touched, wants to feel Cain touch him everywhere. It’s weird but at the same time, it’s, it’s sort of good.

“Oh, please,” Charles says and he strokes Cain’s arms and nuzzles his neck and Cain find he can’t resist.

They fuck on the bed, Charles writhing beneath him. At first, Cain is rough but gradually, he gets into a slower rhythm and Charles seems to like that even better. He closes those pretty blue eyes and whispers things: _please, need, more_. He curls up into Cain afterwards, burrowing against him, settling into an apparently peaceful sleep.

Cain looks down at him and his brain feels foggy. There’s something nagging at him, a half-forgotten thought from long ago and he’s not sure that he likes it or wants it but it’s _there_ , itching. Why did Charles even want this? Why did he want this _here?_

There is an answer. But Cain doesn’t like it. So he pushes it away. He pushes it all away, just like he always has.

He leaves in the morning. 

Charles does not try to stop him.


End file.
